


trapped up on a tightrope now we're here

by MichellesBoh (michellesbohh)



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, Love is Blind but make it Spideychelle, Spideychelle AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23252860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellesbohh/pseuds/MichellesBoh
Summary: Michelle does not want to be here.“MJ, you look freaking amazing.” Betty is practically vibrating as she waits for her to be finished with her turn in the so fondly named “magic makeup chair.”“First,” MJ begins with a mild scowl and an accusatory finger point. It doesn’t quite have the desired effect as she can only lock eyes with Betty through the mirror.“Call me 'Michelle' for the duration of this bullshit. And speaking of said bullshit, Betty. I-” she stops short as she coughs and sputters at the makeup brush tapping some kind of powder all over her face.  “I can’t fucking do this…”OR the Spideychelle Love is Blind AU no asked for but yet is somehow still here
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 15
Kudos: 30





	trapped up on a tightrope now we're here

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. We are all #socialdistancing and they shut down my job this week, so I thought "why not start another WIP and ignore everything I have in my drafts?" So, I did. 
> 
> If you haven't seen Love is Blind, I would encourage you to watch that car accident at your earliest convenience and *SPOILER* our babies gave me big Lauren/Cameron energy and so this fic was born.
> 
> Unbeta'd and all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Title taken from "Fallin All In You" by Shawn Mendes

Michelle does not want to be here. 

“MJ, you look freaking amazing.” Betty is practically vibrating as she waits for her to be finished with her turn in the so fondly named “magic makeup chair.”

“First,” MJ begins with a mild scowl and an accusatory finger point. It doesn’t quite have the desired effect as she can only lock eyes with Betty through the mirror.

“Call me 'Michelle' for the duration of this bullshit. And speaking of said bullshit, Betty. I-” she stops short as she coughs and sputters at the makeup brush tapping some kind of powder all over her face. “I can’t fucking do this…” 

The nice woman, Rhonda, who’s been working real miracles (skill level: unprecedented) on MJ for the better part of an hour, smiles sympathetically, chomping down a little less excitedly on the gum she’s chewing. 

“You’re like my 5th girl to say that today, hun,” she shares somewhat conspiratorially. Michelle hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t respond and Rhonda grins widely as she moves to finish up with the woman in the chair beside MJ.

MJ’s only got eyes for one Betty Brant, her sweet, well meaning, overbearing roommate who’s dragged her here. Fully against her will if anyone were to inquire about the matter. 

No one has, but facts are important. Michelle does not want to be here.

Sighing as if dealing with a kindergartener, “MJ-oh! I mea-Michelle,” she corrects, nodding to herself a little as she eyes the cameras around the room warily. MJ had insisted that if she did this, she would be using her full name. Nicknames are a privilege after all.

Suddenly Betty’s turning the makeup chair and placing a hand on each of her friend’s shoulders, “This is going to be fun.” Betty’s tone leaves little room for argument despite Michelle’s urge to do just that. 

Or to just...run out the door? Never come back? Pretend this entire process was a weird fever dream? Almost as if Betty knows what she’s thinking, a stern glare finds it way into her usually sunny expression. 

MJ concedes that if this particular brand of Brant guilt was directed at lesser beings than herself, the word intimidating might make its way onto a synonym list for whatever word she would actually use to describe it. 

Intimidating adjacent comes to mind. 

“I look…”MJ huffs as she trails off, taking in her reflection again and feeling the creep of insecurity clawing at her, begging to take over. “Idk...you know this isn’t really...my thing.”

Her hair is down, curled in long loose ringlets, and she’s ashamed to admit she has no idea how much of it is actually hers having had her full on “what the fuck what am I doing??” moment as Rhonda was fitting the pieces in place. 

Her makeup is finished perfectly and the dress she’s wearing is a strapless floral pattern with a heart neckline. Sweet if not for the “highly suggested” push up bra she was given (forced into) and the resulting cleavage it creates where there was previously only dreams.

Something occurs to her, “Wait, isn’t this a blind experiment? Why even bother with this?“

Betty’s having none of it. 

“You look fucking sexy. It is unfair to...to society as a whole, Michelle, that you can actually fucking look like that and actively choose not to.” She struggles to find the words initially before settling on an acceptable level of hyperbolic encouragement.

MJ is not one for social constructs or eurocentric standards of beauty (ask her about it. She’s got opinions, okay?), but the words still make her feel better despite her rejection of said beauty standards. She’s not claiming perfection here. 

Betty is watching her for a reaction and sees the moment when MJ starts to believe her if the giddy smile on her face is any indication. She’s back to vibrating and MJ smiles without thinking at the sight of her. Betty's loosened up a lot since high school. She's more free, more fun. It's nice. 

“Oh, come on. We’re only young once and they are paying us good cheddar cheese to be here!” she emphasizes, rubbing her thumb against her fingers in the universal sign for cash money.

Right. That’s why MJ’s here. A cool $500 a week to sit around and drink free wine on a couch? Sign her up.

Which is exactly what she told Betty when she brought this up a few months prior. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine they would actually choose her. It still doesn’t quite add up, if she stops to think about it for any amount of time. Something she has been actively avoiding to stave off her impending panic attack. 

MJ had not put in any effort to land this gig. She never did her makeup during the preliminary skype interviews and let the producers know how little she believed in this “experiment” at every possible opportunity. She even went as far as to insist that it was impossible for this to work on her. 

In hindsight, when the show airs, she’ll see how her insistence against it is what ends up getting her cast. Everyone's a little skeptical about all of this of course, but being downright resolute?

Well that’s just good TV. 

“5 minutes, you guys,” some PA calls out and everyone in the room is buzzing as girls start clamoring to be the first in line to exit the green room. 

Taking a deep breath, MJ stands and awkwardly jerks a thumb over at the line forming in front of the door. If she was less anxious she would’ve picked up on the heated glares being shot her way as she crosses the room. 

Betty wasn’t kidding (she looks fucking hot) and now that shes standing, she’s easily the tallest woman in the room and she’s not even in the highest of the heels she brought (read: Betty packed).

“GAH!” Betty turns to her when the door opens, both trying and failing to keep her careful composure, “are you ready?!”

MJ presses her lips into a thin line and widens her eyes just so. “I hunger for the spotlight,” she comments dryly, “it fuels me.”

**Author's Note:**

> So there's that. Short and sweet for our first chapter, but I imagine them only getting longer as time goes on.
> 
> Our girl is #conflicted. Any ideas or suggestions about what you'd like to see? I have a general (very rambly) document with a rough plot outline, but I'm not completely married to it and I'd love to hear from you guys!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at MichellesBohh (2 H's!)


End file.
